We Could Be So Happy

In the shade… with octopoduler eight-podded freaks.

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In actual life, I feel that if I swam bare-chested next to a squishy alien octopus- AND then it put out a tentacle
    And put it
        ON ME??

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No way!!!

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I am more like…
Prone to…

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Forget it!

I cant find a picture that is reasonable.

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Thats okay.
That sums it up.

Its like… get off me
You 8 winged
Water weiner!!

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In the living room
Of yesteryear
Shag carpeting
Locally brewed beer

Stir fry
Made by a stir fry queen
Put the revel
     All together
Do you know what I mean?

When my father
      was still alive…
He held a hypodermic needle
      for me
   Ohh, what a treat
Its medicine, not blasphemy
And
   Light.. in my echoing
        echoing
                                 echoing
                                 echoing
                                 Form.

                                 Somehow
                                 I
                                 lost
                                 a
                                 piece
                                 and
                                 it
               *clicked*
         back
   in
to
Place.
Nicely fit.
I am
So much older
But attitudinally
FIT
for duty on subjects of soul
That are                   obscure

So obscure             one could
almost miss them
every day of their life
disappointing no one but
their oblivious selves.

A toast-
To unoblivion shag carpet feelings and dreams rolling over into twilight romantic joy and warm harmony

I can see that the night is a scratch redder of blue

Dinner is on

And Mutual of Omaha’s Wild Kingdom is STILL cancelled.

Dang.

I want 1979 back.
I want, I want.

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psych!

Now This Is Just Incredibly Childish!

            A long time ago Mr. White pants went on vacation.

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    He left the neighborhood without his protective
    presence. As he rode away, farting and quite possibly ‘sharting’ his old civil war military pants, he sang a song that was taught to him by his buddy’s old Dutch-German nanny. In a made-up language.

    We all think he is lying!!

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People were GLAD he was gone. WHY?? Because Mr. White pants… smells.

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He smells worse than Elmo.
Elmo smells like sour biscuits and gravy. And has marijuana-breath. Smells like 211, too.

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Speaking of understanding- no one gets why ol’ White pants smells.

So people frickin HATE him.

Whoa! Shhh! Here he comes!!

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Nope. Just a look-alike, mocking him at the parade.
Legend has it, he is full of gas and holds it except for once a year he goes and finally FARTS out at Yosemite National Park, killing wildlife and its always a near death experience for him too.

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Ahh, finally… air!!

Hey, kids! Who REALLY smells??

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“Our PARENTS! They smell like b.o. and coffee, but we won’t say. We try to be nice.”

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Ahh yes! Quite nice to say nothing- lest ye offend them and be punished…

I, king Nazoneks, declare this post Whiff-worthy!

| A | `14

How To Take Over Part Of The World In A Week

      If you want to rule part of the world, you need to be attractive…

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No!

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Yes, yes… you have to be colorful.

Next, divert traffic off the biggest freeway…

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Funnel traffic into… Hell.

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Set up a welcoming committee in one of the generic versions of Hell people are used to…

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Pay Martians to show up (Like $1 to terrorize 1000 people!! Man, what a deal.)

Let people go back up to normal living again…

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So happy to be BACK!!

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Then… dressed in green and orange… tell the people the magic word that reminds them of their stay in hades…

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Aggg!!!

Then take IT BACK…

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“Chow Chess Koo!!!”

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Happy!

Once you have smacked people around like biatchies, exploited their worst fears & remedied them, you win! Yay.
Actually, you control the controllers and hopefully the poison spreads and you can just sit on a freakin’ hill!

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Uh oh.
Someone forgot to close the gate to hell.
I knew those bars were crappy.

Who would have escaped??

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Zaboo-Dabooni!!
Oh no!! He is the sickest monkey ever! He got out in the 80s & 90s…

Craptastic.

I am so mad.
How could I write HIM in?

Oh well.

(Hide.)

The 8th Wife Of Colonel Horace “Frazz” Tubal-Cain

     Colonel Horace of Hurtzsobaadicantstan- the great war strategist- asked his great enemy, Dargon the Opium Billionaire for his daughter’s hand in marriage. The daughter was the fair princess Hee-hooey, whose hair reached the floor.

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     Horace was very good looking…

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For a dead man.

No! Just kidding…
Of course he is alive…

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There!

Now Colonel Horace planned the wedding and was very sneaky! SNEAKY pants!
He hired a firing squad to do a 391 gun salute.

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But while guests arrived by car, plane and fish, he knew he would have his revenge and got EXCITED and screamed, “You are all squirrels!!”

Everyone just laughed.

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And the bodyguards fell asleep, waiting.

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The Colonel’s new inlaws were to be assassinated! Oh no! Oh yes!

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Sparky the Talking Horse was first to GET IT! He knew too much.

Yes the firing squad TOOK AIM! Guns for hire.

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Those DOGS! Dirty stinking scratchy hounds. Who cares WHAT kind of dog? Hey! The one in the middle is my aunt. “Hi Aunt Betty!”

So…

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The princess ran to Grandpa Doo-dad the next day.

“Grand Poopah!”, she cried.
“What!!!?”, he shouted. “I was sleeping on this pile of HUSH-MONEY.”

She said, “My wedding was yesterday… thank you for taking your fish to our wedding… but everyone on my side of the family is dead.

   David Hasselhof escaped. This is terrible. How can I love my HUSBAND knowing he is a super bad rich handsome desirable killer?”

Grandpa paused.

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Then he said, “I cannot see”

Princess Hee-hooey said,

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“Oh, we are blind because… Love is not perfect?? Oh how wise!”

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“Nnno. Wait. YES! Love is not perfect. Now MOVE! I am watching the Love Boat. SEE? I have an earphone CORD??”

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So the princess ran home and made Colonel Horace very happy in special ways and made her husband very happy also because she knocked Grampa over and took all the money back by hiring… Elmo.

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               ||  The End  ||

What Bothers Me Most About This Picture Is…

   Is that horses.. do not LOOK at the painter. They don’t give a CRAP about portraits. I mean, they will crap, but probably not in mid-air as the colon probably cinches up with a jump.

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      Do YOU cinch up with a jump? Don’t tell me. Don’t tell your priest. No, wait.. DO! They need a laugh.

    Don’t mess with people at funeral homes, pleeease?? Do you know, they have to pretend there are not bodies in the joint. Or maybe that’s me.

      I went to a mauseleum. True story- I know my credit here is NO GOOD, but its true. I visited gramma’s grave and I said, “See YOU SOON!”- meaning like FIFTY YEARS. Soon enough. I got shit to do.

       So I told a funeral director THERE a joke about… Uh… dead animals. He laughed and was reluctant to enjoy the joke. I saw Harold and Maude and I finally got it. I guess.

      Do you want to know the joke? Too bad!!

      Huh.

      Well?

      What do you need?

      Okay.

      Bark dust.

      Oops.

      What do you call a cremated dog?

      Oh, shit. I failed.

What Do O’s Feel Like?

“Oh dee O!”

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      Well, one pops ’em out of a box and hopefully you add some milk and sugar and go for it. I use a Cool Whip container to have more of ’em because a bowl doesn’t belong in the bedroom at night. You could step on it and the ceremic will cut your foot.

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    What you want is total satisfaction, right? Bring the box and milk with you.

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     And what do O’s feel like? Who cares! Its nutty goodness out of a factory! They probably add weird crap that causes health problems. That’s why eating Toasty O’s is good naughty night time fun! The more sugar, the more you will die a lot. What is so bad about a little death?

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